


Look Back at It

by lorenzobane



Series: Baby got Back [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Harry Potter, Consultant! Harry, Declarations Of Love, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Famous Harry Potter, Fluff, Harry Potter POV, Harry Potter's fat ass, Hero for Hire! Harry, M/M, Mixologist! Draco, because it's, because it's Harry, but honestly not that explicit, meeting Teddy, some mild adventure, though less directly mentioned this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:27:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25724356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorenzobane/pseuds/lorenzobane
Summary: “I want you to meet Teddy,” Harry says, pseudo-casually.Draco looks up from him from across the bar. Harry has been spending more and more time out in Telford where Draco’s bar The Blind Dragon is. “Who?”Oh right, Harry thought, he had a bad habit of only referring to him as my godson when he spoke to Draco about him. “Oh, sorry, Teddy is my godson. I’d like for you to meet him, I mean you’re family.”Or: Harry and Draco's relationship is going really well, and that's basically the whole thing
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Baby got Back [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1865857
Comments: 24
Kudos: 296
Collections: Numerous OTPS Infinite Fandoms





	Look Back at It

Of all the hurdles that Harry thought he would have to overcome to become an Auror, he felt that not having his NEWTs would be the one that ultimately tripped him up. 

He can't believe that he aced every practical and written exam, had been ranked as the best dueler on the Auror team bar none, _including_ the team's current members, would solve cases _while still a trainee_ only to be told…

"What?" 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter," Robards says awkwardly. "You're extremely talented… It's just… We got your personality results back…"

"And?"

"And it confirmed what we already knew."

"Which is?" 

Robards hands Harry his results, and on it, in big, bold letters, it reads MAVERICK. 

"What does this mean?"

"I told you, it's the results of your extensive personality test… And that, coupled with what happened two weeks ago…"

"I was _right_ two weeks ago. I saved lives," Harry snapped back. 

"But you could have been wrong!" 

"But I wasn't," Harry retorted with exasperation. 

"How did you know?" Robards asked, his voice losing a bit of his calm edge. "How did you even know about the _case?_ You're a trainee."

Harry didn't say anything; he knew about the case because he passed Robards desk one day and decided to take a look. It hadn't taken him more than fifteen minutes to realize the Aurors were on the wrong track, but he gave them a few days assuming they'd figure it out. 

And then they arrested the wrong man. 

If there is one thing Harry simply cannot tolerate, it is false accusations. The image of Sirius being dragged into Azkaban, falsely accused, still burnt so close to his skin. So he bullied Ron into helping him crack the case. Ron had not been as reluctant as Harry had imagined he'd be. 

("Honestly, mate," Ron said with a sly smirk, "I was wondering when you were going to go all _Harry_ on me."

Harry hadn't even bothered asking what that meant.) 

"I can't have an Auror on my team who is simply incapable of following directions or instruction. I can't have an Auror on my team who is convinced they are always right. And I especially can't have an Auror on my team who is all of those things, and the _most famous man in the wizarding world._ It's counterproductive to doing what I need to do." 

"But you just said I'm good at my job," Harry argued back. 

Robards sighed, "yes… But you're also, well Potter; you're a bit obsessive. It almost doesn't matter what case I give you, even the simple ones you somehow manage to make complicated." 

This also, Harry thought, was _not_ his fault. It was not his fault that his fellow trainees and Aurors were willing to stop at the first layer of inquiry. They simply wanted to find the person who committed the theft, which was mildly entertaining. But _why_ had they committed it? 

A month into training, he had been shadowing a completely incompetent Auror. Sure, she had managed to solve the simple crime of who had stolen the cursed painting of Bathilda Bagshot, but she had not been curious as to why anyone would want a cursed version of a portrait that is widely available. Bagshot has her chocolate frog for Merlin's sake. 

So Harry looked into it when he was off the clock. It turns out that the specific curse on the painting gave instructions to other cursed pictures, and behind each cursed painting was a series of addictive potions that a more massive crime syndicate was selling on the black market. 

So he had gone to his supervisor, well… that was a lie. What he had done, was following a different low-level dealer to a different cursed painting, ended up in a duel for his life, again, and managed to get a verbal confession out of one of them and a few names of higher-ups. 

This, apparently, now was the reason Harry was being excused from the Aurors. Absurd. 

"So… You're kicking me out because I solve cases and save lives. Understood," Harry said sarcastically. "Look, I'm not a brat about things. If I were bad at the job, fine- I wouldn't push it. But I can't believe this is about me doing the right thing." 

"The job isn't about doing the right thing," Robarts finally snapped. "It's _about_ following orders of people who are doing the right things." 

Harry stood up, more furious than he had been in a long time, and leveled Robarts with a long look. "Okay, fine." 

And he walked out. 

Almost no one knew the reason why he had quit the Aurors. Well, technically speaking, he had been fired, but since he walked out of the meeting, they had recorded it as leaving. 

The first thing he did after that meeting was going to Ron, the way that he always went to Ron first. 

"Harry, mate, Hermione just--" 

Ron stopped, his gaze went calculated, and they walked out together. Harry had never been more grateful (another lie; he was thankful every goddamn day) to pick that compartment on the train all those years ago. 

"Robarts kicked me out," Harry said suddenly. 

Ron choked, " _What?_ But you… I mean, you've solved cases. We're trainees." 

"We've solved cases," Harry reminded him because Ron always came with him. "And something about my personality test and how I don't take orders." 

Ron snorted, and Harry couldn't help but glare. 

"I mean, mate," Ron said with a wide smile, "it's a little true. Anyway, you rushed out of there like you have a plan."

"I do have a plan," Harry said, power walking to an alley where they could apparate to his place. "I have a desk full of letters asking for help. And I say, you and me… Why don't we answer them."

"What?" Ron asked bewildered. 

Harry shrugged, "like… I don't know, private Aurors. Let's show them how much better we are at this than them. You and me… And of course, 'Mione when she isn't busy rewriting the Ministry codes one at a time."

Ron stared at him for a moment, utterly lost for words, and for a second, Harry wondered whether Ron would call him insane. Ron had also gone through training, and there was no reason to believe that he wouldn't get through. He was an excellent dueler, a great strategist, and generally a wonderful person. Anyone would want him on their team. 

Then Ron's face split into a grin, "of course. It'll be just like it always is… Us, solving mysteries on our schedule and kicking arse. Yes. Let's do it. I mean, Hermione will think we're insane, but she always thinks we're insane." 

Harry felt incandescent with joy. "Yeah… Weasley & Potter, Consultants." 

Ron looked at him, his gaze going oddly watery, " _Weasley_ & Potter?"

Harry looked at Ron, bemused, "Uh… that is still your name, isn't it? I guess if you're changing it to Granger, we can go Granger and Potter." 

"No," Ron said, "for now, still Weasley… But we'll see… I just meant… I mean, Harry, you don't need to add my name to the business. You're the draw." 

Harry rolled his eyes and pulled Ron into a tight hug, "don't be stupid. We're a team, there is no Harry Potter without Ron Weasley, and I thought after ten years, you'd know that by now." 

In the years that pass, almost no one knows the truth of why Harry Potter and Ron Weasley quit the Auror Department together. Even fewer know how they set up their company. 

And when Ron, two years later, in absolute tears, tells Harry that he needs to be with George because he's falling apart and someone needs to be the new Fred. When Ron admits that he can't imagine not working with Harry, not going on adventures… Harry pulls him in close and says that he's never taking Weasley off the letterhead. That he's always welcome when he gets a break. 

And that is how Harry Potter ends up in the consulting game alone. 

* * *

Harry never really meant to make his past such a mystery. Tragically, so much of what he has done and been through can't be shared. The truth of the Philosopher's Stone, what happened in the Chamber of Secrets (the fact that Ginny's name managed never to get tied to that whole mess is the single best accomplishment of Dumbledore's career as far as Harry's concerned), the time travel his third year, the Hallows, the Horcruxes, all the details about Tom Riddle's past… It is all a secret, secrets he'll take to his grave.

It has forced him into this awkward position. He can rarely date. People are willing to tolerate some mystery; it adds to the mystique. But almost no one wants a lover who won't speak about the first eleven years of their lives, who won't talk about huge chunks of their school years, who can't talk about the year they spent trying to defeat a Dark Lord. It left so little, and Harry couldn't blame them. 

If he had a partner like himself, a lover, he doesn't think he'd be able to open up. Be ready to trust them, because they so clearly don't trust him. 

And Harry knows not all of them are secrets that need to go to his grave. If he met someone and was with them long enough, he would probably tell them about the Philosopher's Stone, and the Chamber, and everything that happened with Sirius. He'd tell them about the night Voldemort came back, and how he ended up in the Ministry the night that the Wizarding world finally had to accept his return. He'd tell them about the cupboard.

But it was hard. It was hard to get there because first, they had to tolerate, not knowing. 

With Draco, it's different. Not because he knows more, although he does know most of what happened with Ginny because his father had been involved in giving her the diary. And not because he knew what happened the night Dumbledore died, though, of course, he did. And not even, because in many ways Draco might even know Voldemort better, the way they shared a home. 

It was merely how he wanted to get to know Harry separate from all of his drama. Harry wasn't exactly, precisely sure who he was without it, but he presumed someone existed, and that was a person Draco seemed interested in getting to know. 

They watched _Fleabag_ together, and laughed- and then Draco had forced Harry to discuss his various opinions on plot points, structure, dialogue, and the Hot Priest. 

He takes him to art galleries and asks for Harry's opinions on the pieces. They go to talk from Muggle and Magical professors, and then go to drinks afterward and talk about their views and what they said. 

Strangely, Harry can't help but feel like no one has ever known him better despite knowing almost nothing about him. 

Which is why-- 

"I want you to meet Teddy," Harry says, pseudo-casually. 

Draco looks up from him from across the bar. Harry has spent more and more time out in Telford where Draco's bar _The Blind Dragon_ is. "Who?" 

Oh right, Harry thought, he had a bad habit of only referring to him as _my godson_ when he spoke to Draco about him. "Oh, sorry, Teddy is my godson. I'd like you to meet him. I mean, you're family." 

"Only technically," Draco says, a little ironically.

Harry ignores him, "so you'll come." 

Draco looks at him, his cold grey eyes boring holes into his head. Harry has long since accepted that Draco almost always looks crisp and aloof unless he's actively happy. Finally, he nods, "I'll be there." 

Harry likes watching Draco work. He's so tall, with long slender fingers that wrap around his wand and move swiftly. He likes watching his sharp, aristocratic features focus. Draco often jokes that he has resting _I'm better than you_ face, which is true. Harry can't help but wonder how different their childhood would have been if Harry had understood that some of his actions when they were eleven were genuinely not meant to be cruel… He just had a slightly severe face

"I think you'll like him," Harry says instead. "Teddy, that is. He's a great kid- the best kid in the entire world." 

"No bias there, huh, Potter?" Draco asks with a smirk. 

Harry shrugs, he may be a little biased. "Great, I'm going to see him this weekend. I got him a few gifts, and I need to drop them off." 

"Oh?" Draco asks, "what does he like? Should I bring him something?"

Harry laughs a little, "well, I'm bringing him a broom and a leather jacket." 

Draco stops what he's doing and looks at him again; this time, his eyes glitter with mirth as his lips twist into a smile. "You're a bad influence, Saint Potter." 

"Andromeda certainly thinks so," Harry agrees. 

"How old is Teddy again?"

"He'll be turning five this year," Harry said, pulling out his wallet to show Draco a picture of Teddy blowing bubbles last summer. Teddy's hair is bright pink, and he can still hear his high pitched, loud laughter ringing in his ears. 

Draco looks at the picture; his features soften as the picture version of Harry and Teddy run around in the late summer sun. Teddy had paired his bubblegum pink hair with a darker skin tone to match Harry. 

"I'm not very good with kids," Draco says eventually, after watching the pair in the picture for a few more minutes. "But I'll try my best." 

"Don't worry," Harry reassures, "you'll probably be a better influence on him. I'm always telling him about how I rode a dragon and fought a griffin. Andy thinks I'm going to turn him into a problem child." 

Draco says nothing but looks pointedly at Harry before turning to another patron at the bar. Harry likes hanging out at _The Blind Dragon_ when he has the time. It is an excellent place to get some work done, and so far, none of the paparazzi have figured out where he is. Besides that, he likes watching Draco work. He likes watching his lean, elegant figure swan across space, mixing and chatting with patrons. Draco had a remarkable way of elevating everyone he spoke to, instead of condescending or seeming too good. He just acted as though everyone in the room was a Duke.

It always brought a shocking amount of joy to Harry, watching Draco make people's day by treating them with such respect and dignity. 

Then again, Harry is especially desperate for a place to hide today since one of his ex-girlfriends gave yet another tell-all interview about the album she recently put out, " _Lightning Storm Heart."_ The album itself wasn't bad if the reviews were to be believed, but he could have done without the not so subtle references to him and their ill-fated six-month romance. 

Harry was skimming through the article for any particularly blatant falsehoods when Draco returned with a raised eyebrow. 

"Those songs are really about you?" he asks idly. 

Harry looked up wryly, "in a manner of speaking. I wouldn't say 'you're _always on your hero's journey, always fighting for the cause, but baby when I get cold will you ever come home?'_ was particularly subtle."

Draco nodded, "well, that, and she does have a song called _I sucked Harry Potter's Cock (and all I got was this Stupid Heartbreak)_." 

"Oh Merlin, I forgot about that one. The magazine isn't talking about the raunchy ones," Harry replies with a groan, before checking the time. "Anyway, I think I'm going to head back. Hermione wants me to do a photoshoot for a charity calendar." Harry says this last bit with distaste. He knows that his calendars always sell like hotcakes, and it raises a ton of money, but it still feels uncomfortable. 

"Any theme?" 

"Uh… I think it is animal protection? Do you know? Snakes, lions, the works." 

Draco nods and leans across the bar when Harry meets him halfway for a kiss. "I'll see you later then." 

"You better count on it. Maybe we can get dinner?"

Draco nodded once, "I'll give you a floocall when I get home after my shift." 

Harry beamed gave him another lingering kiss and left. 

* * *

The photoshoot took all afternoon, and by the time Harry was done, all he wanted to do was curl up in bed and pass out. When he finally got back to Number 12 Grimmauld Place, it was five in the evening. He had renovated the place, of course, but with its vaulted, impressive height and plethora of empty rooms, it only ever served to make him feel more alone. 

It didn't help, talking about Teddy with Draco earlier. Harry had always tried to be the godfather that Sirius might have been if he had been given a chance, leaned into the leather jackets, and the brooms. He didn't want little Teddy to grow up without a Marauder. 

Harry sighs, looking around his living room before catching a glance at his fireplace. On the other hand… Draco's place would be empty for a few more hours. Warm and soft, he could nap for an hour and be out of Draco's place before he finished work. Then he could return home and dress up for their date later. 

_This is insane,_ Harry told himself. It was essentially breaking and entering, and though he often walked a thin line of legality, he didn't want Draco to think he had lost his mind, 

He turned back towards the staircase, determined to go upstairs when he faltered and, in a characteristic show of reckless decision making, flood\ed to Draco's apartment. 

It looked the same as any of the other dozens of times he had been to the cottage. Just as warm and airy, the kitchen and living room smelled like fresh bread that Draco had baked earlier that week, and Harry couldn't help himself, he laid down on the soft couch and forgot to set the alarm.

When he woke up, it was to a soft gasp in his sleep about two hours later. Harry immediately whipped out his wand and prepared a hex on his tongue before realizing that it was Draco. 

"Er," Harry started, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was in the neighborhood?" 

Draco shook his head, amused and exasperated, "you need to come up with better lies, Potter." 

"Sorry," Harry began. "I got done with my photoshoot a little earlier than I anticipated…"

"No," Draco said, his face tightening before going very, very soft, "no. I'm glad you were here. It was nice to come back to." 

Harry can't quite help the glowing gooey feeling that enters his limbs, so he flings himself without much dignity into Draco's arms. He'll be embarrassed about it tomorrow, but now, still groggy from his nap, he feels quite overcome. 

"Do you still want to go to dinner, or do you want to stay in?" Draco murmurs into his hair. 

Harry looks up, reveling in the odd feeling of unexpected daintiness it brought out in him to be held like this and touched tenderly. It made him feel like a person that could be protected, though he learned that no one could protect him at age sixteen. 

"Let's stay in," Harry whispers back. The moment feels like a secret like they were in their little pocket of the universe. "I just want to be with you."

Draco's face remains still, but his eyes flutter closed for a moment and open again like he was committing the moment to memory before nodding. 

"Why don't we order from the pizza place down the street?" 

"Actually," Harry began, offering something he seldom does. "Why don't I cook for you?" 

Draco tilts his head, "I didn't realize you knew how." 

Harry shrugs, "I did a lot of cooking as a child." 

They look at each other for a moment, before Draco concedes. "I would like that; no one has cooked for me in quite some time." 

The thought fills Harry with another beam of unexpected joy, so he quickly turns away and walks towards the kitchen before his soppy feelings read too clearly on his face. "I saw that you have some stuff for Shepard's pie. Does that sound good to you?

"It sounds perfect." 

Harry went about making it, his mind halfway with Draco and halfway with Aunt Petunia drilling the recipe into his head. Dudley had told him later, in one of their pub nights after the war ended, that it was his grandmother's recipe. 

To this day, Harry can't figure out if it was a kindness, that Aunt Petunia taught him something connected to his mother and grandmother even though she hated him. 

"What did the Shepards pie ever do to you?" Draco asks, lightly teasing, dragging Harry back to the present. 

Harry laughs, "Sorry, lost in thought. How was your day?" 

Draco went on about his day, and how he had a brilliant idea for a new cocktail, and that he had some ideas for investors for his bar. For the thousandth time, Harry wishes that Draco was less stubborn and let Harry at least help. He's not naive enough to think that his name wouldn't be useful. But Harry wasn't stupid enough to bring it up again, the last time he had resulted in the first and most furious fight of their fledgling relationship. 

"Actually," Draco began. "You never actually said when you wanted me to meet Teddy. Would you mind letting me know so I can plan to reschedule some shifts?" 

Harry jolted, "oh, blimey, I'm sorry, totally forgot. Does Saturday afternoon work for you?" 

Draco bit his lip for a moment, before nodding slowly. "Yeah, I'll be able to get someone to cover as long as I can be back by around six-ish." 

"Teddy is going to love you," Harry says sincerely because Teddy loves everyone. "This will be great." 

Draco nods, and they sit down for dinner.

Harry doesn't know if he's ever done something like this before. I had moments that were so quiet, and maybe even dull. A moment of cooking dinner and discussing weekend plans. He finds he likes it. 

After dinner, they curl up under a quit to watch a muggle movie later, with Draco helpfully giving him very keen insight ("muggles often carry their cellphones in their back pockets," Draco replies wisely watching the protagonist slip his phone into his jeans. "I know this, having spent time among them.") They get about halfway through before Harry gets a Patronus. 

Of course.

 _"Harry,"_ the Patronus begins, " _sorry to bother you out of the blue like this. But that thing you asked me to look into about the boglands in Northern Ireland, you were right. I don't know how long I'll be able to--_

The Patronus dies out suddenly, and Harry is up in a flash. 

"Harry?" Draco asks nervously, watching Harry deck himself out. Harry wishes this was happening at any other time. Draco hasn't seen him go back to work yet, as he was just doing some research to make sure he was around to see where this new relationship went. 

"Sorry," Harry replies, double-checking that his wand was in his holster. His bag of healing potions was still inside his waterproof, mostly curse proof cloak, which had pockets that are charmed with an undetectable extension and feather-light charms. The other pocket held: nutrition and hydration potions, defensive potions, some polyjuice, a tiny bit of liquid luck, the invisibility cloak, and two portraits. One of Albus Dumbledore and one of Severus Snape that he occasionally went to for guidance. "I need to take care of something. I'll be back before Saturday, so I'll come to pick you up before we see Teddy." 

"Where are you going?" Draco asks wearily.

"Northern Ireland," Harry says, readjusting his cloak one final time. "I'm pretty sure there is a Necromancy cult operating out of the bogs, but whoever it seems pretty powerful. They have nearly the entire town imperiused, but I haven't been able to prove it. I had a friend of mine, Jeff, look into some stuff up there, do some research, and I think something must have gone wrong."

"So you're going to…?" Draco starts.

"Rescue him?" Harry replies, confused. "And possibly shut down the cult if I can, but I'll start with the rescue and circle back if I have to." 

"By yourself?" Draco asks, alarmed. 

Harry laughed, "don't worry about me. I've been in and out of a few scrapes, besides," Harry can't help but pause for dramatic effect, "I'm never really alone." 

With that, he reaches his hand up, and Fawkes comes diving in and vanishing them both in a column of fire. 

Harry laughs a little at Draco's face as he leaves, but he can't help it. Dumbledore was his mentor, after all. Fawkes came back to him after the war, and now that they had both been reborn, Harry felt especially in tune with the phoenix. 

His time in Northern Ireland is less exciting than he hoped it would be. The cult got Jeff on a very weak imperius curse and then left him alone, apparently confident enough that no one would come looking for him. 

Harry was able to sneak in, grab Jeff and get him out of range within a day. And by the next day, Jeff had told him what he found. The town was built on a magical hotspot, amplifying the nature magic and general, malignant maliciousness the land itself oozes. 

"So, it's the land's fault?" Harry asks, confused. That was a new one. "What the hell are we supposed to do?"

"It is the land, but it also isn't the land," Jeff says with frustration. "It's like they are tapping into the general atmospheric magic, but without someone channeling it, nothing would happen." 

"So, if we disrupt the connection, we can break some of the spells on the town?" 

Jeff shrugs, "I don't know but count me out. I'm not Harry Potter; I'm not dealing with necromancy." 

Harry shrugged, "okay. Who do we think it is?" 

The suspect, Craig O'Keefe, was a forty-year-old man with perfect posture and salt and pepper hair slicked back who was followed by four nearly identical, perfect children. Even the wife was eerily perfect, her skin poreless and lineless as she walked silently around the town. No one greeted them strangely, but Harry couldn't help but get the overwhelming sense of dread from being near them. 

Even this part, Harry thought, was pretty straightforward. He wonders if he is getting better at this, or if Voldemort sets such a high standard for evil, everyone else comes up short. 

He simply Polyjuiced in as a well-connected member of the town, snuck into the family's basement, and blew it up. He heard the city slowly wake from its slumber, and then he bound the family and called the Ministry. 

A short stopover to the press, "yes they were Necromancers, no they weren't zombies, yes they drained the town of significant energy, but no, it shouldn't be deadly."

Then, obviously, "no, I'm not single. No, I'm not going to tell you who I'm currently seeing." 

Not because he was ashamed, but because he didn't want to deal with the shitstorm that story would surely be without talking to Draco first. 

All in all, the necromancer took Harry about two days to deal with and gave him some time to get groceries and otherwise prepare for hanging out with Teddy. 

If only all of my projects went this well, Harry thought to himself. And he got some very excellent goat's milk from grateful townspeople out of it. 

After taking a shower and picking up Teddy's gifts, he meanders to the fireplace to see if Draco is around. 

He flings some floo powder into the fireplace before sticking his head in after it, "Draco?" 

He heard a sharp clattering sound from the kitchen before Draco's head came poking out, looking intently at the fire. 

"Harry!" Draco says, sounding relieved. "I saw the paper this morning, something about _necromancers_ in Ireland? Are you okay?" 

Harry laughed, "yeah, not a scratch on me. Didn't even get to duel anyone. Can I come through? Are you still free to hang out with Teddy?" 

Draco nodded and smoothed down his beautiful hair. He was dressed well, all clean lines and soothing colors. Harry, for his part, had donned a Chudley Cannon's jersey on his way out the door that was wearing an alarming shade of orange. 

"Why don't you look," here Draco paused, "lovely."

"Thank you, but don't worry, I'm not done getting ready yet." With that, Harry reached into his cloak pocket and pulled out his favorite leather jacket. He got Teddy a tiny matching version, and he couldn't wait to wear it together. 

Draco stared at him with open disbelief before shaking his head, "how is it possible that you still look that handsome dressed like a confused runaway from the '50s?" 

"Part of my charm," Harry says dryly. "Shall we?" 

Draco nodded and took Harry's outstretched arm. Andromeda still lived under tight security, given her status as a Black sister, who is raising the child of a werewolf who was a war hero, so the only way through the wards was through apparition. 

"Harry!" A high pitched voice called the second he popped into the apparition spot. "You're here! Is it true you fought zombies in Ireland?"

Harry feels laughter bubble out of him at the rapid, immediate words followed by Andromeda's sharp, "Teddy!" 

"No, Teddington," Harry said, dropping down, so he was eye level. "No zombies this time. I'll tell you the story when we get inside… But first! Please meet your cousin Draco, Teddy."

"My cousin?" Teddy says, his sweet face looking sharply away from Harry to the new person in their midst. Draco is standing awkwardly stiff, his back straight with his hand stretched out. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Edward," Draco says, his rich voice seemingly even more stiff with the way he's carrying himself. 

Teddy giggles, "he's funny, Harry!" 

Harry beams, "he sure is, Ted." 

Draco gives him a glare that would strike fear into the souls of dementors themselves, but Harry simply smiled back innocently. He's not a monster, so he changes the subject to, "I also brought presents!" 

He hears Andromeda's quiet, "oh no." 

Harry ignores her sound of terror and pulls out two bags from his ever-expanding pockets. "Here you go, now we have matching jackets!" 

Teddy's sound of pure delight nearly breaks Harry's eardrums, but he can't stop smiling when Teddy immediately slipped it on, so they were both matching. He feels more than sees how Draco practically melts against him in the face of the sheer cuteness that is Teddy Lupin. 

"Oh goodness," Andromeda says, her voice some mixture of exasperated and charmed which she often is around Harry. "Let me get a picture of you two boys in your matching jackets."

Harry and Teddy both smile at the camera she summoned before making silly faces, and then Harry says, "I have one more gift." 

Teddy is practically vibrating again, "did you get me a dragon?" 

Harry threw his head back in a laugh, "no. Not a dragon, although your cousin Draco's name means Dragon." 

Teddy looks thrilled at Draco, who smiles and waves his wand and charms his skin to look like scales to the delight of Teddy, who tries to imitate it. 

Harry can't help the glow in his chest, Draco's charms work is remarkable, but more than that, it's just lovely to see him here. With Harry's family, with the person, he loves most in the world. And it's no harm that Draco is very dressed down, in a pair of well-fitting jeans that accent just how long his legs are. His light blue jumper (Harry would bet his right arm that Draco spent at least half an hour trying to figure out the most non-threatening color) was soft and touchable and pulled taught over his broad shoulders. 

Harry's mind drifted to the last time they were at _The Blind Dragon_ together, and Draco had been lifting boxes of Hag mead. His strong arms flexed with the heavyweight, and the black t-shirt he was wearing was clinging slightly more than usual to his arms and chest. 

Harry's not embarrassed to admit that he finds Draco's long, muscular form to be wildly appealing. Ron could probably stand to hear less of it on their pub nights. Still, considering Harry had once asked Ron to break into the Ministry of Magic, he figured listening to him drunkenly talk about his boyfriend's unbelievable cock is probably less high on the list. 

Plus, the look on Ron's face when Harry had mentioned in passing that Draco was obsessed with his ass was going to be his Patronus memory for a year. 

"I have one more gift," Harry says, effectively distracting Teddy from Draco's shimmering blue-green scales. He pulls out the child-sized boom. It has some fairly significant height and speed restrictions and a series of auto-trigger spells if the child falls off. "Ta-da!' 

"A broom!" Teddy cries. "Oh! We can play Quidditch! Do you think Aunt Ginny will play with me?"

"Yeah," Harry says, amused, "I'm pretty sure she will." Ginny had been furious that Harry had beaten her to the punch of getting Teddy his first broom, but he didn't mention that. "She's trying to keep professional Quidditch in the family." 

Teddy frowned, "I'm not going to be a Quidditch player. I'm going to be a prince."

Harry hears Draco smother a laugh before he drops down to where Harry is on the grass. "A prince, Edward? And what shall you do as a prince?" 

Teddy puffed up his chest, "I'll give everyone ice cream and there will be no bedtimes." With that last declaration, he looked mulishly up at Andromeda. 

"How lucky I am," she stated wryly, "that you're not a prince yet. Now… Mr. Potter…"

"Andy!" Harry says, his hands up in surrender, "they're perfectly safe. There are about a hundred safety charms on that thing." 

Andromeda glares at him, "fine! But when that godson of yours breaks his leg…"

"I'll hear it before he can even notice," Harry says. 

The afternoon passes quickly, with Harry and Draco helping teach Teddy how to fly. He doesn't have particularly natural instincts the way Harry did, and Harry is reminded of how clumsy Tonks had been. Through a sharp, painful tug at his heart, he also remembers that she was cheerful and good-natured, just like her spritely son. 

Harry also enjoyed watching Draco get more comfortable with Teddy over time, loosening up and getting downright rowdy. He glanced over to see Teddy and Draco playing 'dragon slayer' with Draco's skin again charmed into scales. 

"I have slain the Dragon," Teddy says, self importantly, using a stick from the ground like a sword. 

Draco writhes dramatically, and Harry is reminded of all of Draco's overdramatic and theatrical tendencies from youth. "You'll have to kill me before I concede defeat! For I am the great and ferocious Dragon!"

With that, he twists up and swoops Teddy into his arms, carrying him clean above his head with the momentum. Teddy's answering giggle did something violent to Harry's heart. 

They played like that for another hour or two before Draco frowned reluctantly and said, "terribly sorry, aunt, and little cousin Edward… But I have a shift at work soon that I must get ready for. But I'm sure I will see you both again." 

Teddy pouted sadly, "but we were going to fly more!" 

"I promise," Draco says, not even looking at Harry, "I will come back and fly. Sound fair?"

Teddy beamed, "perfect! I'll see you later, Draco." 

Andromeda shook her head at Teddy's enthusiasm and said, "it was nice to see you. We are family, Draco. Please don't be a stranger." 

Draco looks oddly touched before turning, "are you staying here, or are you coming home with me?" 

Harry checks his watch and sees that it's 5 o'clock, "I'll come with you if you don't mind." 

"Never," Draco says. 

Harry lets Draco apparate them out. He barely lets Draco put his wand down before he lunges at him.

"You did great with Teddy," Harry says between kisses. He feels Draco's hands reach to grab his ass and pull him slightly higher to get a better grip. 

Draco nods into Harry's mouth, "and you're a great godfather. Now, can we--"

Harry nods and turns around, walking back towards the bedroom with a teasing smirk on his face, "are you coming? Or should I start without--" 

Harry barely gets the words out before Draco attacks his lips again, causing him to laugh against Draco's tall, hard body. 

"You, Harry Potter," Draco murmurs against his lips, "are the size and shape of a problem."

Harry rolls his eyes, finally making it to the bedroom and all but ripping his shirt off. Draco gazes intently at his chest. "You really don't have a scratch on you."

"From the necromancers?" Harry says, slightly confused by the seeming non-sequitur. 

"Yeah," Draco says, running his hands up and down Harry's scarred chest. Harry opened his mouth to ask why Draco brought it up but was distracted when the other man began kissing down his skin and gently pushing him onto the bed. 

Harry went to help Draco undress when he shook his head, "no. I want to take care of you." 

Harry felt his face flush at the words. It was not in his nature, typically, to be such a passive lover. Still, the pitiful look in Draco's eye and the odd feeling of unbalanced tenderness that had been invading his limbs lately made him oddly acquiescent.

He closed his eyes to enjoy the feeling of Draco's warm flesh on his and the gentle kisses on his neck. Draco had learned quickly that Harry responded much better to gentle, soft touches than to rough hard ones, which even Harry hadn't known until he began seeing Draco. No other lover had ever touched him this way, so he simply didn't think he liked it. 

Still, Harry can't help the amusement coursing through him as Draco kept one hand firmly grasping his left buttcheek. 

The time slipped for Harry, between tender kisses to his skin, and the rolling waves of pleasure from Draco's cock. Every time he opened his eyes, Draco was staring at him, his eyes shining with unmasked tenderness that flayed Harry open. 

When he finally came, nearly sobbing into the pleasure by the end of so much sensitivity, Draco was close behind. Harry basks in the afterglow, taking a moment to wandlessly will the sweat and body fluids off of both of them. 

They sit in silence for another minute before Draco pulls Harry's head onto his chest to cuddle. "You are a great godfather, I know I mentioned it earlier, but it's true. Not the type of godfather I thought you'd be, what with the leather jackets and illicit broomsticks, but he adores you." 

"You're thinking of my ability to be a godparent after that?" Harry asks with amusement. 

Draco rolls his eyes, "no. It just occurred to me. You are different with him, though." 

It's a gentle prod, asking Harry without asking him, and Harry is feeling languid enough to answer. "My godfather, Sirius Black, was the best godfather I could have asked for. He was the first person who had ever been _mine_ before. Ya know?" Harry says a little awkward and off-balance. He pauses, before restarting, "Obviously I had the Weasleys and Hermione, but I mean someone whose primary concern was me. I was their top priority. I had never been anyone's top priority before, and even though I only had him for two years… They shaped me. And I want to give Teddy that."

"You think that?" Draco says quietly. "About not being anyone's priority?"

Harry shrugs, "maybe not anymore, or at least I don't care that I'm not anyone's priority. But especially as a kid, when sometimes all I wanted in the world was a parent… Or just someone who put me first, who fought for _me_. Someone I didn't have to share or borrow. But it doesn't matter now; I don't need anyone to take care of me. I've been taking care of me for a long time." 

Draco doesn't say anything for a long time, before he finally says, "I think you're my priority."

"Yeah?" Harry asks his heart broken open. 

Draco takes a breath, then another, and says, "can I say something stupid?" 

Harry nods, biting back a fond smile, "of course." 

"I want to take care of you." 

"That's not stupid," Harry says, his throat feeling oddly tight. "That's… Really wonderful. Thank you, Draco." 

"I just," Draco says, "you're my priority. I want to take care of you… I guess what I'm trying to say is that I love you." 

Harry shoots up from his place on Draco's chest to look him in the eye. His brain buzzing with hope and terror did Draco mean it? Was its afterglow? Could it be true? "

"Really?"

Draco holds his hand out and brushes his hand against Harry's cheek, "yeah."

Harry swallows, "I love you, too." 

Draco smirks, "obviously."

Harry gently pinches his side before settling back down and letting his mind slow down. "Do you mind if I nap here? While you're at work?" 

Draco smiles and pulls away gently with a tender kiss on Harry's head. "Yeah, stay. And if you want… Stay until I come back. I'd like to go to sleep with you in my bed tonight."

Harry looks up at Draco's gray eyes, and feels the restless tendency of his mind and heart steady and clicks into place. "Yeah, I'll be right here." 

**Author's Note:**

> A few things: 
> 
> 1.) Thank you SO much to everyone who commented last time, I'm normally really good about replying but things got crazy after I posted so it took a while to circle back 
> 
> 2.) I just LOVE the idea of Harry being a celebrity and cultural icon a la Beyonce, and I also love the idea of Harry having a Taylor Swift-esque album written about him so that was really fun to include! If you have any thoughts on what a Harry Potter Taylor Swift song would be called or be about, let me know!
> 
> 3.) So that's my reasoning for why Harry isn't an Auror! Which is basically that he's shitty at following any type of orders or instructions, he's obsessive, and he tends to think that he's always right but I do think that he's too restless and obsessive to stay out of the "saving people" game for long so there you have it! Harry Potter the crime-fighting consultant!
> 
> If you have an unusual Drarry headcanons you can find me @lorenzobane on Tumblr :) Also comments give me an immediate hit of serotonin so definitely let me know what you think!


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